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by Zephyr4318Blackberry



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Bad Dirty Talk, Developing Friendships, F/M, Friendship, M/M, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:40:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23260060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zephyr4318Blackberry/pseuds/Zephyr4318Blackberry
Summary: Marc does his best to help but the girls adore him too much to take him seriously, Rose makes a coincidentally accurate artwork and Nathaniel is adorably fuming at the end. Oh, and Alix is a bit of the devil's advocate, and there's a tug of war in Marinette's brain.
Relationships: Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe, Marc Anciel/Nathaniel Kurtzberg
Comments: 1
Kudos: 71





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**Author's Note:**

> A word is breath and soul in life, and life to me is pining  
> That gaze upon the dreams that life do live, and breath, and sing  
> Till life did well to give to me,  
> Your voice, your face, your touch - the soul of my every reverie  
> My wordless, breathless gaze on you - such life-filled joy they bring.

Four of the cutest girls in school are currently surrounding him, three of which are all chuckling, staring and just downright fawning over him that he finally understands what it’s like to be a tiny animal in a petting zoo. If he didn’t know them already to be the good friends he had grown to love over the past few months he would already be a balled-up mess.

“Gosh, he’s so cute.” Alix says in a tease, her head resting on her hand and purposely looking at him like a sleazebag.

“It’s okay, Marc.” Marinette encourages, clearly ecstatic that this painfully introverted walking stick is facing all his fears of standing before a crowd for more than ten seconds. “You can start whenever you want.”

“Yeah, no rush, kid.” Alya says. Her feet are on the table in a natural portrayal of high school laziness. She grins at him, much like in a manner Alix just did. “You’re a really sweet eye candy, now that I’ve gotten a good look at you. Just take your time.”

“Nino would freak if he hears you say that to another boy.” Marinette tells her, mostly because she’s fully aware how pretty for a male specimen Marc is and she couldn’t find it in herself to disagree with her best friend.

“I’m sure my burly boyfriend wouldn’t mind. It IS Marc we’re talking about. Nathaniel on the other hand – now that boy would be greeeeen.” Alya declares, raising her eyebrows at the petite lad.

Alix laughs at Alya, and even Marinette isn’t able to hold out a soft chuckle. The boy with a seemingly un-reciprocated love for the aforementioned redhead suddenly feels like a random, instantaneous combustion is in order. His face is red ear to ear, and this causes Alya and Marinette to squeal, and Alix to laugh even harder.

Remembering his initial intention of coming there in the first place, Marc takes a few deep breaths, wills away the blush, and does his best to look serious. This earns him an ‘awww’ from the girls.

“C-come on, I’m trying to help you guys, you know?” he finally pleaded, not being able to keep the ‘tough’ façade for anywhere near three seconds.

“We know, we know – sorry sweetie.” Alya says.

“Adrian said you offered to give us some pointers on writing our essays?” Marinette confirms, smiling at Marc.

“Y-yes. Well, Nathaniel told me you guys were having a hard time in modern literature class, and I’m sorry if I’m being presumptuous and, um, I’m not really that great of a writer myself, and I know you guys would do just fine without me, but I’ll be really, really happy if I can help you guys even just this once since you’re always helping me, and are always so nice to me, and…”

Both Marinette and Alya shake their heads while sharing a smile, feeling nothing short of fondness towards the helpless boy rambling before them. Ever since their comic book team-up, both Marc and Nathaniel have gained unprecedented fame across the school. While their combined talents result in amazing masterpieces, school moderators have sought them out on more than one occasion for their individual skills. Anyone passing by the once empty walls surrounding the school would take note of the colorful modern artistry now decorating them. And visitors to the president’s lounge waiting for their turn to speak to the head of the school will not be able to put down the pamphlets filled with signature literary works, each containing vibrant and creative depictions of the school’s history. These are only some of the contributions of the two, neither of whom thought of anything about their ad hoc tasks other than as favors to curious professors who ultimately reap great results from their curiosity.

Alya therefore, for the life of her, cannot understand why the raven haired beauty that is Marc Anciel still crumble before a small crowd when the school now completely depends most of its art projects on him and Nath. Perhaps they both love what they do, and that their young selves don’t really put much value to things like fame, or even simple recognition.

“Question!” Alix suddenly shouts with a hand shot up in the air.

Marc nearly tumbles back. He realizes he has been rambling, mostly with self-deprecating insinuations.

“Um, yes, Alix?”

“Why do you wear pink lipstick?”

“Alix!” Alya scolds her after nearly falling from her seat. Marinette looks surprise as well. As an up and coming designer people normally ask her for fashion tips, but she has never, ever questioned about other people’s tastes.

“What? I’m curious.” The pink-haired girl defended.

“It’s HIS style.” Marinette berates mildly.

“I’m still curious.” Stubborn Alix claims, crossing her arms, “And it’s not like I’m saying it’s weird or anything.”

Marc flinches a bit – wouldn’t be the first time he’d be called that, plus other worse adjectives.

“It’s not.” Marinette tells Alix.

“Hmm, but it IS unusual.” Alya muses, suddenly siding with Alix. She eyes Marc seriously. “Not many pretty boys opting for that color.”

“Yeah, well, unusual it may be, but Marc pulls it off nicely.” Marinette argues, by now standing and crossing her own arms at Alix in a friendly yet competitive fit. She doesn’t see the grateful smile Marc has shyly thrown her way.

“I agree, it does look good on him – kind of flamboyant and kinky.” Alix tells the group.

Marc knows flamboyant, and he does admit the shade would definitely give off a rather showy vibe to any stranger. But kinky? What does THAT mean?

Alix continues her point, “But tell me you’re not the least bit curious why someone THAT gorgeous,” her arms gesture to all of Marc like he’s a completely whole piece of work, “would choose to color his own lips pink?”

Marinette rubs the bridge of her nose, “Ugh, of course I’m curious, but you don’t go around asking people why they do their stuff, much less out of the blue.”

“Why not? He’s our friend!” Alix counters, and Marc feels his chest warm-up nicely from that last word which was associated to him in such a casual manner.

“You don’t hear me asking about the headphones and the beanie on your head.”

“It’s okay.” The arguing pair looks at him. “Um, t-there’s a reason why I wear pink.”

Alya suddenly got worried that they’re pushing a rather sensitive topic on the boy, and that they’re technically putting him in a situation he doesn’t want to be in. She shots an urgent look at Marinette for assistance, but before either of them can attempt to salvage the situation, Marc starts speaking.

“Just, promise me you won’t laugh. Actually, I don’t mind if you do. I know I would laugh.” He tells them sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. There’s no trace of hesitance on his face which was normally carrying either an unsure or a vague expression during situations like this.

Marc pulls out a white handkerchief from his left pocket and slowly and steadily wipes the gloss away. They all watch him. He finishes after a moment more and reveals a pair of shiny, lush, rose-red lips. They’re small, yet full and had a soft appearance, beautifully lining his mouth. Marc curves them up in a small smile.

Everyone is bound to mistake him for a girl now.

“Oh, you got lipstick under your lipstick – clever.”

“It’s his natural color, genius.” Alya whispers to Alix.

“Ohh… it’s very pretty.”

“Before I transferred schools, I was always getting teased… erm, bullied. I tried ruining my hair to make myself look less feminine, and eating lots of sour food to fade the color of my lips, but none of that worked.”

Marinette is carefully processing his words, his tone, any sign that will tell her they should stop. But Marc looks serene while he continues. She rolls her eyes to give her friend a side glance. Alix smirks and gives a knowing look at Marinette, who sighs and shakes her head, admitting to herself that it’s a good play to cause him to share like this at his own free will.

“Coloring it was my last bet. But I didn’t want to stand out with any dark hues. I just wanted NOT to be noticed.”

“I get it,” Alix says. As someone who plays around with different palates she appreciates a balanced color combination to get the right hue. “Camouflage texture, something close to the color of human skin without standing out.”

Marc nods in confirmation, smiling and clearly impressed by her.

“Huh?” Alya questions with a raised eyebrow.

“Any dark shade like blue will make him look different than others,” Marinette explains, “Make it lighter and it will look unnatural.”

“But doesn’t pink look unnatural?”

“At first glance, yes, until you remember most people have pink lips. Marc here has the perfect shade of red.” Marinette compliments him sweetly, and he blushes.

“Thankfully my voice changed when I entered high school.” Marc continues, “At least now when I speak, people don’t ask what I am anymore.”

“You’re not supposed to ask that in the first place.” Alix claims angrily, crossing her arms again.

“That must’ve been tough, Marc. Thanks for telling us.” Alya says to him gently, leaning over and clasping the boy’s hands. “We didn’t mean to put you on the spot.”

Marc pulls his hands away only to return the gesture of holding her hands with a grateful smile.

“No, I’ve been unfair. You guys always share stuff about yourselves – I wish I can be open, but I just ruin the mood when I speak. I also want my friends to know more about me.”

“Aside from your crush on Nathaniel?” Alix teases him again, and the three girls chuckle.

“Does everyone really know?” he asks, cheeks now matching the color of his bare lips.

“Pretty much.” Marinette answers him, “Except for Nathaniel himself, of course.”

Marc can very well sense the endearment from his friends. He knows they all mean well, but the mere mention of his name is just a huge tickle in his heart. Still, the talk earlier has greatly lightened him. A huge part of his insecurity has been smudged by the simple act of acceptance from these friends of his. This allowed him to finally take a step in the direction he wants to take, and have a control of the situation, if only just a little.

“Um, why don’t we talk about your assignments now?” he offered.

“Ugh – yeah, fine.” Alya pulled away and threw herself back her to previous position.

Marc glances at Rose. He saw her a moment ago looking at him when he was explaining about the lip thing. Now she’s buried on her own project again. He smiles at her and decides to let her be. He picks up his favored black notebook and holds it close to his chest, a familiar image for all of them.

“Writing can be pretty fun.” He begins, albeit a bit timidly, “It’s… kind of like sewing.” He says, looking at the designer prodigy in the group. Marinette’s face brightens, and she beams at him.

“You have a beautiful fabric, and you got a picture in your mind with what that fabric would look like when you change it into clothing.” He explains. Alix and Alya both adjust their posture, suddenly finding his words interesting. “The challenge there, or should I say, the fun part, is when you start cutting and knitting that fabric to suit that mental picture.”

He doesn’t notice, but his voice has grown steadily firm, sure, still soft and squeaky and course, but clearly more confident than his usual.

“But you always have to start with a picture. What is it YOU want to write? Then you can start cutting the wide fabric of words and phrases to sew that picture into paper.”

“He makes it sound so easy.” Alix tells Alya, who nods. She looks a bit frustrated, and understandably so. As far everyone is concerned, Marc never had any formal training, yet he writes poetry, inspirational messages, and stories of every kind, and they always move people.

“Did the teacher give you any theme?” he asks.

“Nope.” Alya tells him.

“Yeah, we kind of just have to write something.” Marinette answers. She has her pen and paper ready to begin anytime.

“Hmm… well, depending on your style, that might make things easy, or really difficult. But hey, let’s just wing it.” He says after a bit of musing. “Who among you love to watch movies?”

Alix is the only one who shots a hand in the air.

“Everyone loves movies.” Alya declares.

“I’m more of a comic book kind of person.” Marinette tells him with a mischievous wink. Marc smiles warmly at her.

“In that case, let’s start with a genre. What sort of movies do you guys like?”

“Gore!” Alix is the first to answer again.

“Romance.”

“Romance, fantasy, and comedy.”

Alya and Marinette answer respectively.

From there on, it’s all just a matter of narrowing down their individual areas of interest, and then branching them out. Both Alix and Alya insist on making their sentences fancy. Marc teaches them how to use simple sentences with the right yet equally simple words. Marinette is constantly getting lost in her discussion. She writes well, Marc says to himself, but she wants to say so many things about so many things that she confuses herself. The boy finds it cute, and typical of the girl. A few more pointers, a couple of repeat works on Marinette’s part, erasures on Alix’s part, and groaning on Alya’s part, and Marc decides they finally got the gist of it.

“Finished!”

Everyone, especially Marc, jolts at the miniature blonde princess who had been busy on her own side project.

“This can’t be good.” Alix declares.

Paying no heed to their pink-haired friend’s snarky remark, Rose jumps from her stool and slams her artwork on the table in front of the other girls who gasp with wide interested eyes. Marc himself peers over the upside down sketchbook.

His face gets renewed shades of red as he sees an obscene sight of two lanky boys making out, lips puckered and drawn almost as one. The crude hairstyles are distinctive enough to be his and his best friend’s. Both figures seem to be naked at least at the top, while the boy who was supposed to be Marc only has a pair of shorty short shorts, and well pronounced buttocks.

“Oh my God, Rose!” Marinette sounds flabbergasted, but the way she suddenly takes hold of the sketchbook to have a closer look betrays her condemning remark. 

Then they all remember the object of the rather inappropriate image and suddenly fall silent.

“Sorry Marc.” Rose apologizes. She tears the page away and looks sorrowfully at Marc.

“I kind of get it, though.” Alix speaks all of a sudden, “Some girls in another class were talking by the cafeteria the other day, and they’re all giggling and talking about you two being an item, or something. And not just any item…”

She gives Marc a playful nudge, “A HOT item.”

Marinette and Alya exchange guilty looks, with the former being the more affected. At least among the four of them, Marinette has been open about her fantasies regarding the two boys, partly because she thinks they’re both just too cute not to be together, and mostly because she has never seen either of them look so happy before they formed such a bond. Alya on the other hand, while she completely shares the same view, is a bit more vulgar, randomly describing vivid make-out sessions of the pair as soon as the topic came by.

Rose folds the piece of paper and hands it to the androgynous boy, figuring how safe it would be in his hands rather than be disposed by hers. “I know you and Nathaniel are precious friends, and something as indecent as this… isn’t… likely… to…”

Rose trails off as Marc opens the paper, and another wave of silence befalls the art room, with the female team suddenly getting expressions of shock. While the beat red qualities of an innocent blush has occupied a good majority of his small face, an unexpected grin through a pair of squiggled red lips has also crawled its way on his normally forlorn features. The girls’ reactions are justified, not only because it’s a rare and precious sight for their friend to show a mixture of intrigue and embarrassment, but because to a certain extent, as the childish scribbles reflect in his wide open eyes, they also see something akin to a perverted thought.

“Nathaniel… and me?” he says dreamily, biting his lips. 

Marinette reacts by grabbing Alya’s arm with one hand, eliciting a hiss, and putting another on her mouth to hide a devious grin triggered most likely by a sinful thought.

Alix doesn’t hide hers, though, and immediately begin texting something to Nathaniel.

Rose shifts from being surprised to the feeling of wanting to crush the lad in a bear hug as she ultimately decided that Marc is just being so cute right now.

Marc absorbs the contents of the paper. It’s not so much as what it’s trying to show. It’s about what the picture is trying to say, and in the creative mind of Marc Anciel, the picture is saying a lot. Of all the pieces he has written, all the random sparks of inspiration he gets, he has never made anything that falls in the genre of adult sexuality. As he gazes at the picture, however, every erotic image he could conjure in his mind began forming a very sensual and vivid image of the redhead and him in the same scenario as the one in the picture.

As soon as Alix finishes sending the message to her clueless friend, she leaps towards Marc and puts an arm around him.

“That’s right, it’s you and Nath, Marc.” She whispers suggestively, “Know what? I’ve been through his browser history before. I can tell you all of his… TURN-ON buttons, if you know what I mean.”

Marinette can’t believe she’s letting this happen. Surely it’s inappropriate, right? For a girl her age it’s natural to be curious about these things, but she has never really entertained the notion of being absorbed in this new world. She feels it’s too soon both for her and her friends, especially for Marc - sweet, innocent Marc - adorable Marc, the Marc who will look perfect in Nathaniel’s slender arms, looking so vulnerable and beautiful, and breathing heavily as her redhead friend does all those things she would otherwise consider… inappropriate.

Suddenly all that talk about essays and words and pictures are being put to good use.

‘Go Alix, keep pushing!’ she says mentally, finally giving in.

Rose seems equally engrossed with the forbidden idea, and so is Alya.

“Turn-on… buttons…” Marc says. His eyes are flickering, threatening to close. His lips have plastered an uncharacteristically perverted smile. Whatever ‘literature’ he was having in his mind surely wasn’t classical. His legs are noticeably buckling, his body unfamiliar with this new heat travelling around it.

“Uh-huh, wanna know what those buttons are?”

Marc nods weakly.

“Too bad, I ain’t telling. You gotta find that out for yourself.”

Marc whimpers a bit.

“I’ll give you a hint, though.” Alix leans her lips closer to his ear, “That picture you’re holding? Rose is spot on.”

The door to the art room slams open, and everyone, including Marc, jumps at the sudden intrusion. Alix grins once she realizes who it is.

A very flushed, very sweaty, and apparently very livid Nathaniel starts stomping his way towards them

“Alix, you jerk!”

His familiar course voice, mad as they are, causes a shiver down Marc’s spine. Marc was still reeling from the hot scenes in his head, made even hotter with Alix’s suggestion of Nathaniel’s preferred stimulation, which, apparently, he is perfectly qualified for. He looks at the figure of the furious teen and his body heat elevates drastically, and everything, except the approaching, alluring boy, becomes a blur. His throat suddenly feels dry. His breath, misty. Marc looks at the texture of Nathaniel’s smooth and slender neck, glistening with sweat, and there grows a foreign appetite inside of him.

Nathaniel has zeroed in on his longtime friend. The one person who knows him probably more than he knows himself, and she has betrays him. That text message he received a few minutes back shattered whatever calm constitution he possessed, and is replaced with justified fury, embarrassment, and disbelief. He continues his march, not realizing the other individuals in the room, not even the boy who has, since their first meeting, caused the flight of so many butterflies in his stomach.

“That was supposed to be a secret!”

“I haven’t told anyone.” Alix says with a shrug.

Nathaniel’s furrowed gaze turns even sharper as he opens his phone and showcases the contents to her.

“Then tell me what this message means. How could Rose draw the picture if… Marc!”

Perhaps it was Alix’s denial that somehow calmed him down even just a little bit. Or perhaps it was the familiar cologne that finally reached his senses – that faded scent of sandalwood, mixed warmly with the smell of the owner’s skin, and giving him constant comfort. Or perhaps it was the very sight of the boy’s beautiful face - that face, blushing red and with lips raw from the heavy exhales. But Nathaniel finally registers Marc’s presence there.

His arm is still stretched with the initial intention of shoving the contents of the message to Alix’s face. His eyes travel down to Marc’s hand – the alleged sensual picture, clutched tightly by the raven haired boy. Nathaniel’s face burns even hotter.

Marc on the other hand has his eyes glued on the screen of Nathaniel’s phone, its contents keeping it there.

_Message from Rose K.:_

_Nath – that steamy dream you had, the one you told me yesterday. Rose just drew it on paper, and your sexy boyfriend is currently drooling all over it._

**Author's Note:**

> I've only written F/M, this will be my first M/M - I instantly fell in love with these characters  
> Also my first work here in AO3, so reviews, corrections, comments on the tagging or how I post this and any type of feedback - more than welcome.   
> I'm thinking continuance, but I'm happy with this for now, so I'm marking it as done.


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